Beautiful Princess
by Fetteranton
Summary: Dreaming. Staring. Planning. A heart cries for attention while his mind begs for murder. According to the short stories there will be a prince to rescue him from an evil relative. But stories and real life are opposites,- life is often never good. AU/M


Så Beautiful Princess

Ciel/Alois, AU, mature themes themes/M(?)

Alois' body aches terribly all over but his legs had suffered the worst during the weekly tradition, leaving him shambling towards the bathroom, trying his best not to fall violently as a drunken man onto the wooden floor. With no one to help him in that scenario, Alois continues down the stairs and down the hallway and opens the door to the only place he feels protected from the tyrannical and violent force plaguing his life. With fresh tears and a swollen face, he slips into the bath and curls up with his knees up to his chest and enjoys the painful yet delicate sensation of cold water embracing him. The water could not stay warm forever apparently. Sobbing as quietly as possible, Alois can still feel the strange mixture of adult drugs, particularly lots of alcohol and cigarettes, dancing eagerly around in his mouth like the memories from last Friday plays hide and seek in his mind. Long ago had he abandoned the hope of innocent laughter with his parents on Friday nights as they watched a movie together. Long ago he even abandoned all signs of a childhood that is supposed to be after they had died in the plane crash, leaving him in the care of some rich relative from his mother's side. His days are now spent doing the ridiculously easy homework from the prestigious private school down the block and staring at the other kids from his window. Those kids looked so genuinely happy. With so little care in the world, their days were spent going out to play and sharing fond memories of their activities afterwards. Alois dislikes it.

No. He hates it. In his heart, he wonders why the other kids in the neighborhood never comes to ring the doorbell to ask him out. His heart cries daily, proven by the shriveled pages in his textbooks where he writes short stories about beautiful princesses being rescued from evil relatives by charming princes so that they could live happily ever after. As well as his pillow is a witness to the tears Alois thinks he hides. These short stories proved to be somewhat helpful since his language teacher was fascinated by his "dedication to education", thinking that Alois wrote the stories voluntarily to improve his grade. This teacher was a big part of his mind along with the kids. In Alois' mind, he had already stabbed their pets to death, hung them up publically across the neighborhood so their rotting bodies could be devoured by hungry flies as he tied up the kids to chair as they are witnesses to their parents execution by a gunshot to the head and eventually a burning mass grave in the backyard, leaving the kids to burn alive along with their dead parents. The teacher would suffer the worst. He'd rip off his clothes and tie his fat, pig-like body to the back of a car and drive around the neighborhood several times, laughing at the teacher's pained screams as his flesh was torn away from his body. Then he would leave his mangled corpse in an animal farm for food, recording the events as his body parts are ripped limb from limb by hungry dogs or pigs. Maybe then someone would ask Alois out. Maybe then someone would notice Alois.

Alois smiles weakly to himself as he plays through the plans several times in his head, giggling as he imagines the mangled body of the fat teacher being eaten by hungry animals and the scent of burnt flesh. His joy does not last long as his uncle pounds on the door with his fat fist, breathing heavily as he tries to speak in his drunken state,

" You were good today, Alois. I am glad I am taking care of you. And you taking care of uncle." he breathed out, smacking his wet lips together. He stood there for a while, breathing heavier by each passing second until a slight groan passed his lips. Alois knows how this will turn out.

"Take care of spilled milk, will ya', kiddo? Good night"

Loud shuffles echoed through the house as Alois' uncle walked upstairs to his room, leaving a pale Alois scrubbing his arm with a cold swamp, shivering and tears once again threatening to escape his eyes. Not noticing he has dropped the swamp, Alois continues to scrub his arms with his untreated and long fingernails, opening long streaks of flesh as the bathwater turns a hint of red. Take care of spilled milk, Alois. Preferably use the tongue as uncle says, Alois.

Alois returned to his room with bandaged arms. He is quick to slump down onto his bed and press his pillow to his face, screaming out loud to whoever may be listening. He has always suspected his neighbors next door to be able to hear Alois' screams and his uncle's grunts through the Friday nights, but when encountering the couple living there in the few occasions when Alois goes to the supermarket, they always greet him nervously and leave with nervous steps before Alois even has the chance to greet them back. Not that he would of course as he has no reason whatsoever to even start a conversation with them. Then again, he has no reason to even start communicating with a world which does not even care about his existence. Except for his therapist sessions on mondays, of course.

Claude has been the only one who even shows sign of caring about Alois. No matter how indifferent he looks when Alois starts answering his typical questions such as "How are you?" "How has your week been?" "How is school going?", Alois knows that deep down, Claude really cares about him. He can see it in his eyes. His elegant movements with his hands as he scribbles down notes on what Alois has said. His effeminate movement when he pushes the glasses up his nose. Alois can see it when he stands up to turn off the tape recorder and give Alois a slight handshake, "Thank you, goodbye". Alois trusts this man. Well, not enough to tell him how his uncle likes coming home late on Fridays, maybe accompanying some business partners , take too many shots of vodka and other shady substances, take Alois upstairs to his uncle's room, severly abuse him and leave Alois as a hollow shell who feels that he is better off dead than living in the world.

Alois removes the pillow from his face and curls up in the sheets and blankets. It's Saturday tommorow. That means uncle will be out all day again. But what is there to do except to wait for Monday to arrive?

My first Kuroshitsuji fanfic. Sorry if Alois is off-topic and I apologize extremely if this story is too brutal for your liking. I know this first chapter does not even mention Ciel, but that is for a later chapter or so. R&R, please. Need all criticism I can get.

Oh and, if I do continue this story, I promise that it will not carry this much focus on Alois' abuse. I wrote this as the first chapter because I believe that, even in the series, the abuse has a HUGE amount of influence in Alois' behavior and to somewhat underline that, I opened up the story like this.


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